OnlyOneWoman

Multifandom, jumping from one fixation to the next with no rhyme or reason. Introverted to a fault, 40+, don't EVER do collabs. Scammers will be blocked. No habla dothraki.

[onlyonewoman]

Where September Was Long Chapter 62

Being alone in Ramsay's flat, Myranda can indulge in things she only ever saw on sitcoms, reality shows and on social media as a kid. Luxurious baths, real satin sheets, coffee made from freshly ground beans.

Just the fact that it's normal for a lot of people to have fully furnished rooms they rarely even use, is still weird to her. The cleaning staff was a shock, despite her own line of work. It was awkward to walk out of Ramsay's bedroom in the morning to pee, only to find an old little lady in house uniform, dusting and polishing all the glass surfaces until they shone.

Ramsay never cleaned, of course. Or shopped for groceries or did laundry.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Satin Flowers brings back memories. Not buried ones, Benjen never tried or even wanted to pretend his first and only love wasn't real. But you can't go about life by constantly thinking of the dead and Yoren would've been furious with him, if he did. Benjen takes his evening walk with Ghost alone to think. A bit about Jon and Satin. Mostly about Yoren and the quiet love that didn't fade with time. Like natural light, it simply adapted, shone differently depending on time and place. More than anything, it had been a revelation how his harsh friend could touch another man so gently.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

She passes the salon on the way to the liquor store, Jez pulling the leash the way she always does when Ramsay isn't present and if the place hadn't been so central, Myranda might've stopped, just to look. The window display is always really nice at Le Tresse, but the place is temporarily closed now, of course. Not that Myranda could afford a treatment there anyway. Or the conditioner she'd hoped Ramsay would get her. It still makes her stomach twist, when thinking about how he knew exactly what she wanted and let her think he might buy for her.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Satin wouldn't say he was a natural with children, but he'd never considered himself useless either. Most children's basic needs were fairly easy to meet unless war, plague or starvation was at the door, but with honey sweetened milk running down his face, Satin was more than ready to admit defeat.

The little lord Robert Arryn was a boy who, from the very moment he'd been thrust into Satin's very surprised arms, knew an awful lot about his rights and very little about his duties.

[onlyonewoman]

Libera Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86946106

"It happened in the morning, when Satin had just fetched water for the lord commander's morning wash. Warming it on the fire as usual, he'd heard Jon Snow behind the changing screen, rustling with clothes and boots for a much longer time than usual and then, Satin had been dismissed.

Nothing strange in of itself, but the lord commander's voice had been sharp, almost angry and with a mumbling excuse, Satin had hurried out. He'd gone to the kitchens instead, getting the lord commander's morning meal and taking his good time back.

The lord commander, how ever, had looked a bit... ashamed, when Satin returned with the tray, apologizing for his short temper and thanking him for the tray. Few people have apologized to Satin, for anything and definitely not bad temper.

What lord commander Snow deemed to be unacceptable behavior towards his steward, would've been a lucky day for Satin the whore. And of course, Satin had accepted the apology like the rare gift it was and Jon Snow seemed genuinely relieved.

Confusing, indeed."

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86946106

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"Are… Are you okay, Satin?" "Yeah. Yeah, of course I'm okay! I'm fine."

He absolutely isn't. This is too much for him, of course it is. Jon being in and out of hospital, hurting himself and others, turning into a complete wreck.

Satin doesn't want to be here, this isn't how dating is supposed to be like and Jon has no right to blame him, no right at all.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Love is a strange thing. The countless ways it can happen, how seemingly huge changes turn out to be little more than wave on the surface. How something minimal shifts you around on a Tuesday morning or Friday afternoon and suddenly, the world has different colors.

Benjen's woodland palette had been shifting for a long time before he finally looked up and saw the new landscape. Much like the seasons, in a way. Or a very slow wheel.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rickon, for his part, is deeply focused on his tortilla roll for a good fifteen minutes and then, without warning, he tugs Satin's good arm. "Yes, Rickon?" "When are you having a baby?" The table goes silent and Arya coughs. Satin is quite impressive of his own suppression of sudden laughter and turns to the six-year-old. "I am not having a baby, Rickon. Men can't carry babies." Rickon still looks confused and Robb asks: "Did you think Satin would have a baby like aunt Talisa, Rick?" "Yeah." "Why did you think that?" The six-year-old shrugs. "Because they're two."

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"I already owe the Starks enough as it is, Benjen. You don't ask for money from people who're already housing and feeding you for nothing." "It's not for nothing."

Jon's uncle sips on his coffee, still hot enough to steam.

"You being here, helps them. More than you might think, maybe more than it helps you." "I call horseshit on that, respectfully." "Call a whole stable full of it if you like, but I know what I see."

[onlyonewoman]

Where September Was Long Chapter 55

"Don't push yourself too much, though. It will set you back."

Jon huffed.

"Don't worry. I already have a bunch of med staff nagging me about that." "Is any of them your mother?"

Her son rose his eyebrows.

"Are you?"

It wasn't said with intentional malice, Catelyn could tell and Jon sighed, looking a little ashamed.

"Sorry, that was shitty of me…"

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

His face is getting clammy with sweat, his palms too, stomach a knot of pain, bad enough that he has to pull himself into a fetal position, despite his general soreness. Jon doesn't know, mustn't know, he's going through enough already. What's some bruises compared to... The door opens and closes, quietly, the floor creaking a bit. Mattress dipping.

"I'm so sorry, lad. After everything with Jon, all you've done for him... And now this." A hand on his least sore shoulder, broad and soothing. The kind of hand you'd expect a father to have. Ned Stark's faults are normal and human, he's not cruel, Satin knows that. You don't raise someone like Jon Snow if you're cruel.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The body lying still on the grass could already be dead, they don't know, can't tell, but one of the girls insists she saw the dog run after the explosion and so, they hurry to lift the man away, a heavy task but adrenaline and survival instinct go a long way and he's carried along with the fleeing crowd, unconscious even as the fire reaches the thankfully few remaining vehicles on the parking lot – few people here have cars and tonight, they thank their lucky star for that.

In the chaos, a crowd can mean more problems, but also be the solution.

[assflat]

FREE ME!!!!!!! Idk from what...I just want to be free from literally everything

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

The child in his arms is no longer quiet. He's crying and crying, inconsolable no matter how Ned tries to rock him. He should be at his mother's breast, but there is none and in all honesty, there's no need for a paternity test either, because Ned just knows.

He takes his shirt off, skin on skin contact is important, they read about it together, him and Cat.

"It's alright, little one... Shh... I'm here, we'll figure it out..."

[onlyonewoman]

Where September Was Long Chapter 51

"I... I was thinking about making some new ads again, some autumn theme before..." "Lovey?" "Huh?" "It's alright." Satin looks up, seeing the hollow face on the pillow, the soft lips that don't smile, the braid resting on the other shoulder and Jon holds his gaze. "You don't have to... pretend you're fine, Satin. I know I really scared you." https://archiveofourown.org/works/71269551/chapters/225731281

[onlyonewoman]

Old fanfic writer rant incoming:

I'm 40+ and I've been writing fan fiction for 10 ass years, meaning I'm basically a newbie because my only experience of fanfiction.net are posts from people telling us novices how the censored old days were. The amount of amazing stories I've read on ao3 over the years is one of the greatest treasures of my life and I've also seen so much fanart clearly done with love, passion and true talent. Fanart that, just like fan fiction, is DONE FOR FREE FOR THE LOVE OF THE STORIES! That's why it sucks to get messages from people who think we can't tell the difference between a genuine fan and a lazy scam artist. It also sucks because attempts at making fanfic writers pay for fanart, can hurt AO3 in the long run.

I'm OLD and the last thing I'd pay for in this economy, except from meme coins, is AI "art". You haven't created shit if you've used AI and that alone is depressing. The fact that you think we'd want to PAY for it, makes me miss the porn bots. If I some day really want fanart for a specific story, I'd reach out to one of the real artists I follow here, whom I know being into that specific fandom. Go and LEARN something for real, kids. AI isn't art and the best stories on AO3 are written by adults who have spent years working on their storytelling skills. If you don't even grasp the very base of what being a FAN means, you've failed at life.

[onlyonewoman]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"Hi, baby." "S'been a while..." Satin makes a sound that's partly a chuckle, mostly something else and Jon nods at him. "Too tired to... move..." "Your hands, I don't... Can I hug you?" "You better..." It was worth those unwanted hands, Jon thinks with Satin's arms around him, his curls tickling his face and Jon nuzzles into his wet cheek. "Don't cry, silly... I'm not dead, just pale and ugly..."